


Things That Never Happened: All Kinds of Wrong

by wheel_pen



Series: Lucy [24]
Category: Smallville, Sorority Boys (2002), The West Wing
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, Naughtiness, President Lex Luthor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-26
Updated: 2013-04-26
Packaged: 2017-12-09 12:45:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,729
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/774343
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wheel_pen/pseuds/wheel_pen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU of the Lucy universe. A sadly unfinished story inspired by Michael Rosenbaum’s role in the movie Sorority Boys.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Things That Never Happened: All Kinds of Wrong

**Author's Note:**

> 1\. Lucy, my original character, is Clark’s cousin on the Kent side. Although human she may have some strange psychic powers and definitely has some issues in her past. She’s having a tough time with her mom and goes to live with Jonathan and Martha for a while. She and Lex form a relationship.
> 
> 2\. In my world, Lex eventually becomes President. And his staff is from The West Wing. 
> 
> 3\. I started writing this series during the third season of Smallville, so it diverges from canon then or earlier.
> 
> 4\. The bad words are censored. That’s just how I do things.
> 
> I hope you enjoy this AU. I own nothing and appreciate the chance to play in this universe.

            “So,” Lucy pointed out, shifting in her seat, “we’re in the car now. Are you going to tell me where we’re going?”

            Lex gave her a sidelong glance and a half-smirk and concentrated on steering his Lamborghini Diablo around a corner at an obscene speed. “We’re going to Metropolis,” he answered simply, tapping the wheel in time to the techno music trickling out of the stereo. It would have been blaring, of course, but Lucy automatically turned the volume down when she got in the car, before the engine had even started.

            “ _Where_ in Metropolis?” she persisted lightly. Lex had been very furtive about this outing ever since he first mentioned it to her a couple weeks earlier, and for once she couldn’t tell if his desire to surprise her with the details was because he thought she’d like it, or hate it.

            “We are going to...” he began slowly, drawing out his pause an unnecessarily long time as he stopped and glanced both ways at a four-way stop, “...the campus of Metropolis University.”

            Lucy considered this for a moment. “If this is some kind of... donor reception...” She hated those things, full of long, boring, obsequious speeches that made her feel completely embarrassed for everyone in the room.

            “Nope,” Lex assured her, moving to a full smirk. “Although, there _will_ be a lot of rich old men present.”

            “Um... opening of some prestigious new facility?” she guessed. Those were boring, too, trying to make small talk with self-important guests, but at least they usually had decent snacks. And sometimes she and Lex had been known to sneak away to “explore” the new building.

            Lex shook his head. “Uh-uh.”

            “Awards banquet? Charity benefit? Lecture by a famous person, followed by a meet-and-greet?”

            “My G-d,” Lex breathed, slightly horrified, “have I _really_ taken you to that much boring s—t?”

            “I know every ‘clean joke for speakers’ there is, Lex,” she told him pointedly. “People think, ‘Oh, Lex Luthor’s girlfriend, she must do all kinds of illicit, depraved things in her free time’—“

            “ _Who_ thinks that?” he interrupted, with some irritation.

            “Okay,” Lucy admitted, “ _I_ would think that. But no, I spend my free time at dinners and banquets and ceremonies—“

            “Are you complaining?” he asked, mock-angry. “Because if you can’t handle the _pace_ of my lifestyle, sweetheart—“

            “I’m not complaining,” Lucy placated him. She was guessing charity benefit. She hoped it was at least the kind where most of the money made went directly to the charity and _not_ to paying for the extravagant benefit itself. “I’m sure only going to _boring_ events keeps my name out of the papers...”

            “That, and a liberal dose of cash and threats,” Lex replied with a grin.

            Lucy gave him a Look. She knew her mother had gotten a few calls about Lucy’s relationship with a rather visible billionaire’s son, but her mother also wasn’t shy about drumming up publicity herself. But as far as Lucy knew, her aunt and uncle had never been bothered by journalists seeking more information about her... and she was pretty sure she would _know_ if it ever happened. So whatever methods Lex employed, they seemed to be working—for which she was grateful, of course, but sometimes she wondered if Lex occasionally used her as an _excuse_ to come down on someone he didn’t like anyway.

            “So,” she prompted finally, “the event we’re going to tonight _is_...”

            “A frat party,” Lex replied smugly.

            Lucy thought she’d heard him wrong and turned the music off entirely. “A _what_?”

            “An informal social gathering held at a fraternity house,” he elaborated in one of his more obnoxious tones.

            Lucy sat back in her seat and thought about that for a moment. “Explain,” she finally demanded suspiciously.

            Lex grinned and gave in. “It’s alumni weekend at Met U,” he began, “and—“

            “You’re not an alum,” she interrupted, then wondered, “Alumnus? Anyway, you didn’t graduate from there.”

            “I _attended_ ,” Lex countered primly.

            “For like a _semester_.”

            “It was a semester and a _half_ ,” he corrected. “And that counts. For some things, anyway. Like frat parties.”

Lucy rolled her eyes. “Because frat parties have _such_ high standards.”

“If I may be permitted to continue? It’s alumni weekend and all former members of the fraternities, including Kappa Omicron Kappa, are invited back to the house for a party—“

            “You were a _frat boy_?” Lucy asked incredulously, her tone making her opinion of such individuals clear.

            Lex sighed. “K.O.K. was my _father’s_ fraternity, and he was very, shall I say, _insistent_ that I join as well—I don’t know, it made sense for him I guess, he figured I’d have to contend with the same old boys’ network that he did, and a lot of the K.O.K. brothers end up as corporate executives and pass jobs along to the newer graduates... I of course fully intended to make my _own_ network...”

            Lucy was thinking about something besides Lex’s Life Plan Lecture. “K... O... K...”

            Lex had the decency to look _slightly_ sheepish. “Yes, well... this fraternity was not known for its academic achievements or service endeavors. It was more famous for the quantity, variety, and... utter shamelessness of its social activities. There was one story,” he added, perhaps unwisely, “about a topless Jello-wrestling event held in conjunction with a neighboring sorority—“

            “And you’re taking _me_ to this party?” Lucy cut in. “I think I’d prefer the donor reception. At least I wouldn’t be _groped_ or _vomited on_ or _drugged_ and dragged off to a closet by a drunken misogynist...” At least, it was less _likely_.

            “Lucy, that’s not going to happen,” Lex told her firmly, and he held her gaze seriously until she had to remind him, “Watch the _road_.”

            “There will be people there looking out for you,” he assured her, “people I know. And my dad’s going to be there, too.” This information was added tentatively.

            “Oh, great.” Lucy rolled her eyes. “I feel _so_ much safer.”

            “Alright, it’s _possible_ my father would let someone grope you, if he thought it would be advantageous to him,” Lex allowed, teeth gritting at the thought, “but I’m sure he wouldn’t let someone drug you and drag you away.”

            “Oh well good.” Dry as a bone.

            They were silent for a moment as the endless cornfields blurred by. Lucy reasoned she would indeed probably be better protected than any other eighteen-year-old girl who ever ventured into a frat house... but that didn’t mean she would _like_ it. Loud music, spilled beer, obnoxious drunks, wealthy adults charged with running complex corporations regressing to their hormonally-driven youth, and her main bastion of security and sanity (besides Lex, whose sanity was currently in doubt) would be _Lionel Luthor_? Swiss steak, ridiculous plaques, and tired jokes were looking better every second.

            “It’s a chance for me to see some people I haven’t spoken to in years,” Lex finally said, staring straight ahead. “Acquaintances. Friend—ly acquaintances.” _Friends_ was too strong a word for Lex to use casually. “And,” he admitted, “there’s a couple people my father wants me to meet... But on the upside,” Lex added, trying to lighten his tone, “I will be dressing as a woman and answering to the name Alexa.”

            _That_ got Lucy’s attention. “What?” That Lex _had_ kinks was not news to Lucy; that he was actually going to _share_ any other than the mildest with her was an intriguing new development.

            Seeing that her reaction was curious instead of repulsed, Lex continued more easily, “It’s become a bit of a tradition for us now, for me and a couple of the other brothers I mean...”

            “Explain.”

            Lex’s smirk returned. “Well,” he began, with the manner of an ancient skald relating an epic tale of grandeur, “a few weeks after I was accepted into the house, three of us were actually _expelled_ —“

            “For what?” Lucy wanted to know.

            “Mmmm,” Lex replied, lips tightening. “Let’s just say it was an incident involving a dog, a butter substitute product, and the house president’s jockey shorts, the details of which are...”

            “Nauseating?” the redhead guessed.

            “Unimportant,” Lex clarified. “At any rate, we were determined to gain entry to the house again, and, being unwilling to tell our fathers about our dismissal, we had to come up with our own lodgings, temporarily.” Lucy raised an eyebrow, waiting for the punchline. “So we dressed as women and pledged a nearby feminist sorority.”

            Lucy stared at him for a moment. “Nuh-uh,” she finally replied, with great indignation. “Lex, that only happens in... stupid sex comedies! That would _never_ work for real.”

            “Honest to G-d,” Lex swore, chuckling at her tone of disbelief. “Frankly, I don’t know how Doofer pulled it off, because he is one d—n homely SOB. But Dave was quite fetching, really—big doe eyes and all—and _I_...” He paused for a satisfied smirk. “I happen to make a very _sexy_ woman.” Lex glanced over at Lucy and asked with more seriousness, “Are you too freaked out?”

            “Mmmm... no,” she decided. “I just—I can’t quite picture it, you in a dress.” She looked as though she were actually trying to imagine it, and the thought made Lex unusually... anticipatory.

            “It’s the wig that really sells it, I think,” he mused. “It’s a nice honey blond.”

            “I can’t believe that worked,” Lucy repeated after giving it more thought. “What, was it a sorority of _blind_ girls or something?”

            “Well apparently Leah, the president, was very nearsighted, which was how she and Dave—Daisy—ended up in the shower all the time without her suspecting anything,” Lex replied, his tone suggesting he didn’t quite buy that part himself. “But no,” he continued, a bit pompously, “Delta Omicron Gamma prided itself on encouraging young women to resist the stereotypical model of the ‘sorority girl’ as thin, fashionable, and slutty, so they certainly weren’t going to turn _us_ away for being a little less...” He struggled for the appropriate word. “...feminine than one might normally expect.”

            “Are you serious?” Lucy persisted.

            “Absolutely,” Lex assured her, sounding vaguely hurt that his honesty was being called into question. “After a couple weeks, through various scurrilous means, Doofer and I managed to get back into the fraternity’s good graces—Dave had had this big ‘enlightenment’ thing and didn’t _want_ back in—but then of course it wasn’t long before I was expelled from the university as a whole, so...” Lex shrugged. Princeton certainly didn’t care about the circumstances under which he had left Met U, not with his name and his tuition check, and a degree in biochemistry from the Ivy League was _vastly_ preferable to anything his father’s alma mater could offer him. “In any event,” he added, “Doofer and Dave were both hired by LuthorCorp after graduation, and we like to get together every now and then, reminisce, dress up, freak the h—l out of our frat brothers...”

            Lucy smiled a little bit. “So _your_ network is the old _cross-dressing_ boys, huh?”

            Lex grinned in return. “Well, not _all_ of my old acquaintances are cross-dressers,” he stressed, “but there’s a certain amount of bonding that occurs when you’re trying to figure out which things to tuck and which things to stuff.”

            He looked like he was waiting for some kind of response from Lucy, but she really had none to give. “I...” she tried, then shook her head. “Okay.”

            “Okay?” Lex repeated with uncertainty, then added tentatively, “If you’d rather stay at the penthouse for a few hours, or go to your mom’s or whatever...”

            “No, no, I want to come to the frat party and see you in a dress,” Lucy decided firmly. On the surface, it wasn’t really something that turned her on—it just seemed somehow, _impossible_ , to picture Lex as a woman. But it would probably be funny at least, and despite her instant dislike of the _idea_ of a frat party, Lucy had never actually been to one. So even if it was thoroughly unpleasant, at least Lex couldn’t say she’d never _tried_ it. Besides, Lex’s grin at her announcement—the kind that said he really _hoped_ she’d agree, but didn’t completely expect it—was worth any trouble she had tonight. Almost.

            An hour later they pulled into Campustown. Lucy grimaced at the throngs of loose-limbed coeds crowding the streets, maneuvering from bar to Greek house to private party and back again. She tugged her opera-length gloves up absently, a nervous habit Lex couldn’t help but notice. “You look beautiful,” he told her, by way of encouragement, and she smiled back.

            Even on a Saturday night in the middle of alumni weekend Lex managed to find a “friend’s” garage in which to park his beloved car, to keep it from being mauled by the auto-lustful youth. The K.O.K. frat house—Lucy still couldn’t believe the name—was three blocks away, and she could hear the raucous music spilling out of it long before she saw the actual neo-Georgian exterior. They slipped in the back door, to the industrial kitchen that was already hot and crowded with college boys getting tipsy on free beer and talking too loudly. And giving Lucy far too much attention for her liking. She tried to squeeze closer to Lex—who always attracted his share of attention anyway—but he was currently being embraced in an unusually affectionate manner by an enormous African-American man in a newsboy cap. Lucy estimated that she, Lana, _and_ Chloe could be comfortably housed in his dark blue sweater.

            “Big J!” Lex greeted cheerfully.

            “Big L!” the man replied in his booming voice. “Bro, I thought for _sure_ you’da grown some hair by now, man!”

            Lex just shook his bald head. “I wouldn’t risk it,” he answered lightly, “the ladies love this look too much.” Speaking of ladies... Lex reached and caught Lucy’s hand, pulling her away from her perusal of the room’s exits. “Big J, this is Lucy. Lucy, Big J.” Lucy smiled weakly as Lex wrapped his arms around her. Big J bared his teeth in what she presumed was a smile. “Big J was one of my fraternity brothers during my illustrious career with this house,” Lex added dryly. “He’s going to keep an eye on you in this den of iniquity while I find a few people, aren’t you, Big J?”

            “My pleasure,” the larger man replied pleasantly. “Big L always had the hottest chicks, that’s for sure.” Lex gave him a look that said he really wasn’t supposed to mention that kind of thing, but Big J ignored it blithely. “Got your stuff all laid out upstairs, man,” he added, leaning in a bit so he wasn’t broadcasting _quite_ as much. He shook his head. “Looks like some weird s—t to me, man, but it’s all there.”

            “Thanks, man,” Lex told him, slapping his palm in what Lucy thought was a rather random bit of physical contact for Lex—until she saw the neatly folded bill, a denomination with multiple zeroes, slide from Lex’s hand to Big J’s. For some reason this gave her more confidence... she wasn’t relying on an ex-fraternity brother for security in this madhouse, she was relying on a well-paid _employee_. Of a sort.

            Lex turned to Lucy, hoping she didn’t flip out on him completely before the night was over. She was still looking a little skittish, but maybe she would settle down once she got used to the... loud music, thick crowd, overpowering scent of alcohol... well, perhaps not. “I’m going to go upstairs and...” He grinned at her. “...get changed. You’ll be alright here?”

            _I’ve never felt more like a juvenile high schooler in my life_ , she wanted to reply. _Don’t leave me!_ But she didn’t want Lex to think she was a baby who couldn’t even stand around at a party without him... and why the h—l should _this_ pitiful excuse for drunken debauchery be so much more difficult than an awards ceremony attended by the President of Met U or the mayor of Metropolis? She hadn’t even batted an eye when she met _them_. Of course she hadn’t really _recognized_ them, either, but still...

            So instead Lucy took a deep breath, plastered a halfway real smile on her face, and nodded. “Yeah, I’ll be fine.”

            He seemed to appreciate her attempt at confidence. “I won’t take too long,” he assured her, and then his arms were gone from around her waist and he was heading towards the door. “Don’t drink anything you didn’t open yourself,” Lex added, unnecessarily as Lucy had been reviewing all the personal safety rules she’d learned about in health class last semester, and she didn’t intend to drink anything except water straight from the faucet. She nodded anyway, wondering if Lex’s associate who was babysitting his car would remember her and let her sit in the locked Diablo for the next three hours. Probably not.

            “Hey, man,” Big J added, pulling Lex aside before he could slip out the door to the hall. He jerked his head towards Lucy. “How old _is_ she, anyway?” Lex just grinned and winked and then he was gone, and Big J decided he probably had his work cut out for him tonight.

 

*******

 

_A few years later…_

 

            “You can go in,” Charlie said neutrally, holding the door to the Oval Office open for Leo. It was eight o’clock on a Tuesday night, and Leo noted that the younger man looked _almost_ as bright-eyed as when he’d come in that morning thirteen hours earlier. Caffeine and youth were his major assets in this battle, Leo decided.

            The President sat in a chair before the fireplace, feet propped up on a coffee table that had been given to Grover Cleveland by the King of Prussia as a sign of the two countries’ mutual admiration and goodwill. The table had, unfortunately, outlived Prussia. Seated on the couch opposite the President was his father, whom Leo did an excellent job of pretending to not dislike. Both men were sipping glasses of what was always very expensive scotch that Leo tried not to think about. At all.

            “Leo, Leo, come on in,” President Luthor insisted, waving him forward. Okay, so maybe this wasn’t his first scotch of the evening. Or maybe he was just trying to relax a little bit instead of working until two am.

            “Mr. McGarry.” The older man’s voice was somehow slimy, Leo thought, making him feel like even such a simple greeting couldn’t be taken at face value.

            “Mr. Luthor,” the Chief of Staff replied cordially. “I’m sorry to interrupt, I didn’t realize you were in here.”

            To most people this would have been a coded signal that said, _go away now, I need to talk to the President alone_. Lionel Luthor was not, however, most people. He heard the signal, he grinned like a shark, and he stayed put.

            “What’s up, Leo?” the President prompted.

            Leo had to walk around the chair to see his Commander in Chief, who was slumped in the cream-and-gold chair donated to Jimmy Carter by the Pipperidge Sawmill Furniture and Upholstery Company of Winscott, Tennessee. He seemed to be... in a good enough mood, Leo decided. He hated to break it.

            “Sir,” Leo began delicately, glancing at the interloper, “perhaps I should discuss this with you alone...”

            The President thought this proposal over. “Is it some kind of sensitive defense information?” he asked seriously.

            “No,” Leo assured him.

            “D—n. I felt like blowing something up tonight,” President Luthor replied. His father snorted derisively. “Is it... information that will point out to my father how I’m screwing him over on something?” he tried sharply.

            “Please,” his father said sarcastically, as if such an event were an impossibility.

            “It does not appear to be that on the surface, sir,” Leo told him carefully. “It’s more a matter of... personal interest, sir.”

            “Personal to _you_?” Lex asked, intrigued.

            Leo really wished he could just ask the d—n man to leave so they could stop playing 20 Questions. “Personal to the First Lady, sir,” he answered delicately.

            President Luthor straightened abruptly and set down his glass. His father smirked at his reaction. “Let’s have it, Leo.”

            Leo didn’t think this was such a good idea, but he knew the expression in his President’s eyes well enough to know that he’d d—n well better get on with it. “We’ve just gotten a leak on a story,” he began, sitting down as the President indicated, “which will break at a press conference in a couple days. There’s a former Senator, Charles Cauley, from Kansas—“

            “Chaz Cauley?” Lionel Luthor repeated, obviously taking delight in knowing the personal nickname. “I didn’t know the old bugger was still alive.”

            Leo gave the First Father a glance so no one could say he’d ignored him, then continued to the President, “He claims that the First Lady assaulted him.”

            There was silence for a moment. “What?” Lex asked, dumbfounded. “What the h—l, Leo?”

            Leo opened the folder of notes in front of him—it was really just for appearance, to lend greater credence to his facts. He had them all memorized, of course. “He’s going to announce that several years ago, the First Lady and a ‘second unknown female’ assaulted him and robbed him at a gathering on the campus of Metropolis University.”

            There was another, longer moment of silence. Leo could feel the tension building in the room, and he wondered if he shouldn’t have _insisted_ that Lionel Luthor leave first. He saw the President send a sidelong glance to his father, and then suddenly—they both burst out laughing. “I _told_ you, I _told_ you,” the President singsonged, pointing smugly at his father and swilling the rest of his scotch.

            Lionel was shaking his head, greying curls swinging about his shoulders. “I don’t believe it,” he responded. “He must have been drunker than he looked. Or perhaps,” he added with a devious glint in his eye, “he’s betting that for once you won’t be _completely_ shameless and refute that in public.”

            Leo had _no_ idea what they were talking about. “Uh, sir?” he prompted pointedly.

            Lex had moved on to a different angle. “It must be Greenbow putting him up to it,” he mused. “That corn-fed b-----d wants _another_ major highway slashing right across Kansas, and he probably wants it to be _named_ after him, too. That f-----g little blackmailer.” Leo could practically see the wheels turning in the President’s head as he schemed at light speed.

            “Don’t let the blackmailers win, Lex,” his father advised dryly. “Get the truth out there, let the _people_ decide.” If his tone had been more acidic it would have come with a hazardous materials warning label.

            “That is d—n right,” the President replied flatly. “That twitchy little—“ He broke off his muttering as he started snickering again. “G-d, that’s hilarious, though. Lucy’ll have a fit when she hears about this.”

            “Uh, sir?” Leo put in again.

            Lex looked at him as if just remembering he was in the room. “Right, yeah.” The President cleared his throat and tried to sound serious as he faced his Chief of Staff. “The whole truth and nothing but the truth, right, Leo?” Leo opened his mouth as if to say he didn’t really think he was ready for the _whole_ truth, but President Luthor went on before he could speak. “When the _First Lady_ ”—Lionel coughed disrespectfully—“and I were dating”—another cough; Lex glared and asked, “You need another _drink_ , Dad?”—“we attended a party at a fraternity on the Met U campus.”

            “Kappa Omicron Kappa,” the two Luthors chorused. Lionel sounded nostalgic, Lex somewhat disturbed. Leo scribbled the name down quickly.

            “During this party,” Lex continued, “the Senator... incited my ire. So I stripped him naked and shoved him out a window onto the front lawn.” Leo stared up at his Commander-in-Chief, who added, “There happened to be a large crowd and also some TV cameras out there, as I recall. You should have C.J. look for the footage.” Lionel chuckled, just an evil little chuckle, at the thought.

            The story didn’t quite add up, though, from Leo’s point of view. “If _you_ were the one who...” He didn’t think it was a good idea to actually _say_ that the President had assaulted someone, so Leo rolled over that part of the sentence. “...why would he say it was the First Lady, sir?”

            “Ah, well,” Lex revealed slowly, taking another drink, “the First Lady happened to be with me at the time. I don’t recall her actually _participating_ in the event, but I presume Lucy was the only one the Senator recognized.”

            There was something else here, something that was making both Luthors bite back little smirks. “Why wouldn’t the Senator have recognized _you_ , sir?” Leo pressed. He wasn’t sure he liked the “make Leo guess the answers” game the Luthors loved to play.

            “It was _probably_ because,” the President suggested, “I was dressed as a woman at the time.” Leo’s eyes widened momentarily, then he quickly narrowed them and scratched his pen furiously across the paper on his lap. “A very _convincing_ woman, I might add.”

            “Only convincing, perhaps, to a very drunk, myopic, desperate man who had poor taste in companionship to begin with,” Lionel countered. “Which sums up former Senator Cauley.”

            Lex couldn’t let the insult to his womanhood go by—he never could. “I think I was quite sexy, actually, in the skirt and the heels and the wig,” he opined.

            “Maybe, _maybe_ ,” Lionel conceded, “if someone saw you in a crowd, at a museum or a...”

            “Grocery store?” Lex supplied. A “museum” was the best place his father could come up with where the masses of humanity might congregate.

            “...in a public gathering of some sort,” the elder Luthor continued, “and they didn’t look _too_ closely, perhaps they might assume you were female. But you were at least four sizes bigger, not to mention six inches taller, than the average young woman in attendance at a fraternity party, so therefore—“

            “Are you saying I’m _fat_?” Lex asked, in a tone of voice that could be either very dangerous or very deadpan.

            “For a sorority girl, you’re on the hefty side,” his father confirmed. “You’re... like the linebacker on the powder puff football team.”

            “I’m a _healthy_ girl,” Lex protested, and Leo really couldn’t believe he was listening to this conversation. “I’m not some anorexic bimbo with a figure like a lollipop. I’m... _athletic_.”

            “Excuse me, sir,” Leo interrupted, before his evening could get that much more bizarre, “you stripped the Senator naked and pushed him out a window?”

            “Yes,” Lex replied, as if that should be obvious.

            Leo blinked. “Uh... I assume no one was ever charged in conjunction with this event?”

            “You assume correctly, Leo,” the President confirmed cheerfully. “The old f‑‑‑‑r didn’t know what hit him. Thought he’d been rolled by a couple of sorority sluts. That’s why I stole the money from his wallet, to add to the authenticity.”

            Leo stared at his Commander-in-Chief and swallowed hard. Perhaps President Luthor was putting him on...? Unfortunately he didn’t think that possibility was very likely. “May I ask, sir, _how_ the Senator made you angry?”

            “Oh, surely you can _guess_ , Mr. McGarry,” Lionel insisted cavalierly. “What does Lex _always_ lose his head about?”

            The President glared at his father before turning back to Leo. “He was molesting my wife—girlfriend,” Lex answered, eyes narrowed. “She was being _quite_ clear that she wasn’t interested, but he just _wasn’t_ listening.”

            “So you stripped him naked and pushed him out a window.”

            “You seem kind of fixated on that part, Leo,” Lex observed.

            “It seems like the most important part, sir. Legally speaking.”

            Lex waved him off. “Oh, I’m sure the statute of limitations on assault has long since passed. Greenbow’s just trying to embarrass me.”

            “Well, we know _that’s_ impossible,” Lionel commented cattily.

            “May I ask if you had consumed any alcohol or other illegal substances that evening, sir?”

            Lex thought back. “Hmmm... I think I had a beer. That’s about it. You can’t be high and walk in heels, Leo. It just doesn’t work.” The Chief of Staff nodded at this advice. “I bet I could still fit in to one of my dresses,” Lex decided suddenly.

            Leo definitely didn’t think that would be a good idea, so he tried to ignore it. “Sir, I’m going to get a couple people from Legal to come up here and—“

            “Perhaps one that had a little more _room_ in back,” Lionel allowed.

            “Wait, _now_ you’re saying that I have a _fat a-s_?” Lex sounded incensed.

            “I suppose it helps offset the shoulders. A little bit.”

            “G-------t, I’m the f-----g Commander-in-Chief of the United States Armed Forces,” Lex snarled at his father. “You can’t say that I have a fat a-s. I’ll have all of your factories ‘accidentally bombed’ due to faulty navigational equipment!”

            “You’re very touchy this evening, Lex,” Lionel commented. “That time of the month perhaps?”

            “You are such a piece of s—t,” Lex replied, but he was laughing. Leo tried to sit very still and hoped it would all end soon, like with an emergency message from the Joint Chiefs of Staff. The President picked up the phone and said, “Yeah, get my wife. I think she’s in the Residence. You are _so_ insensitive,” he was telling his father, “such an a‑‑‑‑‑e... Hey, sweetheart, no, I was just talking to Dad.” Lex looked across to Lionel. “She says she understands completely. Listen, I was just wondering if you have any pictures of Alexa still.” _Oh G-d_ , thought Leo. There were pictures. Of the President in drag. And not at some respectable event, like Harvard’s Hasty Pudding Man of the Year Awards. “Yeah? Send ‘em on over. Put them in an envelope or something, Leo’s about to choke on his tongue... Oh, just that old b-----d Cauley making a fuss again, nothing to worry about... Yeah, that’s a _great_ idea...” Lex’s voice turned coy, suggestive, until Lionel made an indiscreet gagging noise in the background. “I’ll be over pretty soon, angel, promise. Bye.”

            The President hung up the phone and the three men sat in expectant silence for a moment, until Lex finally asked, “Anything else, Leo?”

            “How long ago was this party?” Leo asked, amazed his brain had any power left after the beating it’d taken this evening.

            Lex thought back. “Oh, about twelve years, I would guess.”

            “So the First Lady was eighteen.”

            “Yup.”

            “So—just to make sure I have this correct, sir—you took your eighteen-year-old girlfriend to a party at a frat house, where you were dressed in drag, and when a U.S. Senator hit on your girlfriend, you stripped him naked, pushed him out a window in front of witnesses and possibly a TV camera, and stole the cash from his wallet.”

            “Leo.” The President seemed a bit hurt. “With that tone of voice... you make it sound so _lurid_.” Leo didn’t know how to respond to that. “Besides, I donated his cash to the house keg fund.”

            “Oh, well then...” Luthors could do dry as a bone, McGarrys could do dry as a bone...

            “Wasn’t that the night I introduced you to McCandless?” Lionel interrupted. Lex nodded.

            “Senator McCandless?” Leo asked in surprise.

            “The _other_ Senator from Kansas,” Lex pointed out. “The _good_ Senator. The one who’s _not_ a f-----g egomaniac.”

            “We get enough of those in the Executive Branch,” Lionel tossed off.

            “The future Senator McCandless who took Cauley’s seat was at this same fraternity party?” Leo clarified. G-d, could this _get_ any worse?

            “As well as executives from a number of Fortune 500 companies,” Lionel told him, “GM, UPS, SBC—“

            “All the great initials,” Lex smirked.

            “It was alumni weekend,” Lionel explained, “and Kappa Omicron Kappa has many highly-placed alumni.”

            “I got my a-s pinched _so_ many times that night,” Lex reminisced fondly. “I was black and blue the next day. Those men must have liked a little more _meat_ on their bones, what with, you know, my _fat a-s_ and all.”

            _Please, dear G-d_ , thought Leo, _let the roof cave in now_. He stood abruptly. “Well, thank you, sir,” he told the President. “We’ll get to work on dealing with this right away. I’ll talk to Legal, I’ll talk to C.J., and we’ll brief you on it tomorrow.”

            “Thanks, Leo.”

            “Thank you, sir.”

            “I’ll send the pictures over to your office tomorrow morning,” the President assured him. “I don’t want people to think I make an _ugly_ woman.”

            “No, sir. Goodnight, sir. Mr. Luthor.” Leo beat a hasty retreat, wondering if the Republican party would accept him, and if they would be just as bad.

            Lex and Lionel waited until the door had shut firmly behind the Chief of Staff before bursting into raucous laughter. “Oh, G-d, I love my job,” Lex sighed happily.

            “Your staff thinks you’re psychotic,” Lionel pointed out.

            “Well, they’re all very intelligent people,” Lex agreed. “But you know, I always say, honesty is the best policy, right, Dad?” Lionel fairly snickered and lifted his glass of scotch in salute to the sentiment. “You try to cover up this kind of thing, it always comes back to bite you in the a-s.”

            “Which apparently has had quite a lot of abuse lately.”

            “Speaking of which...” Lex drained his drink, stood, and motioned for his father to do the same. “I have to go to the Residence now, and you have to go—wherever you go where Secret Service Agents watch you to make sure you aren’t planting a bomb somewhere.”

            “It’s called the Lincoln Bedroom, son,” Lionel replied patronizingly as he was ushered out of the Oval Office.

            “Thanks, Charlie,” Lex told the young man at the desk. “I’m turning in for the night.”

            “Goodnight, sir. Mr. Luthor.”

            “One of the slats in the headboard is loose on that bed,” Lex said suddenly.

            “In the Lincoln Bedroom?” his father asked. “I suppose it’s obvious how you know that.”

            “Well, you know, we had to christen each room,” Lex shrugged as they walked down the hallway towards the Residence. “Maybe I’ll remember to leave a note for Maintenance tonight...”


End file.
